After the Autumn
by cwashburn1
Summary: When Sherlock Holmes returns from what everyone else perceived as death, all anyone can think is how and why... except strangely Ms. Molly Hooper, a pathologist at St. Bartholomew's hospital.
1. Prologue

**After the Autumn**

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***Sherlock*Sherlolly*Post-Reichenbach***

**A/N: Hello there! This is the first fan fiction I have ever written, and I'm really not too sure that anyone is going to like it at all, but I have hope! WARNING: If you are overly sensitive to Reichenbach feels, LEAVE NOW, OR CRY. Have fun, all you brave others.**

**There is some mild language. **

**I do not own Sherlock or its characters, obviously, because if I did, Sherlock would have already confessed his love to Ms. Molly Hooper, and the second episode in the third season would be a double-wedding: John & Mary, Sherlock & Molly.**

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Prologue

"This is my note. It's what people do, isn't it?" he said sadly.

"Sherlock I don't under—what's going on?!" replied his friend down below, in front of St. Bartholomew's Hospital. The two men continued to speak over cell phone for a while, and then the man on the roof hung up; tossed his phone aside. He stepped up onto the ledge, raven-black hair blowing in the cool breeze, and he fell. Everything was incredibly surreal for the man below. He screamed out his friend's name as the small black figure fell from the top of the building. The man below bolted for the front sidewalk of the hospital, where his friend lay in a pool of his own blood, surrounded by nurses. Halfway across the street, the man's beeline was interrupted when he was hit by a bike, knocking his sandy hair askew. His head spun nauseatingly as he stood, moving as fast as his muscles would allow, once again dashing towards his dying or possibly even… no, Sherlock Holmes was not going to be dead when Dr. John Watson reached him. He would simply not allow it to happen. When he reached Sherlock's side, there was a throng of concerned and shocked looking people around his friend. When John had finally pushed and shoved his way past the curious bystanders, he found himself in the centre of the crowd, being restrained by medics.

"No! He's my friend! NO!" he shouted, the tormenting pain evident in his voice. As the nurses began to hoist the body onto a gurney, John called his friend's name one last time before finding his limbs again and rushing into the hospital behind Sherlock's gurney. After nearly half an hour of anxious pacing, the doctor came out of the E.R with a grim look on his face.

"Well?" John questioned, his voice quavering. The doctor shook his head in despair.

"He passed instantly. There was nothing we could do to save him. I'm terribly sorry John; I know how hard this must be for you." The look on John's face was heart-shatteringly devastated as he absorbed the fact that his best friend, Sherlock Holmes, was dead. Gone… Forever… with one little autumn fall.

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**A/N: Well, there you have the first bit. I just felt that I needed to try uploading one little part and see if anyone likes it before I go into my entire (thus far) 12-page fan fiction. Like, Follow, and Review and let me know what you think!**


	2. Chapter 1: Life Alone

**A/N: Wow, I really didn't expect to get 140+ views overnight! Thanks for giving me a chance! I'm going to try to upload chapters ASAP, which obviously has NOT been happening because school is ruining me. I promise whenever I get more time on my hands, I will try my best to upload everything. Again, I do not own Sherlock or its characters.**

**WARNING: Mild language. **

Chapter 1: Life Alone

Nearly 2 years had gone by since John Watson's friend and colleague, Sherlock Holmes, had committed suicide. John had finally managed to move on with his life; a good job at Bart's, 221B was as neat as it ever had been, even a lovely fiancée (Mary). Life was looking up for him.

It was early in the morning on November 25th, when John was awoken by a knock at the door. The groggy man glanced at his clock and groaned. Who could be knocking on his door at this hour of the morning? John rolled back over, willing the person to go away. After a couple of seconds, they knocked again. John sighed and hauled himself out of bed, grabbing his dressing robe off its hook. He sleepily called through the door, "Be there in just a minute!" He could hear the person on the other side shift in response. When John opened the door to 221B, the man standing before him struck him as oddly familiar. That coat… he's seen it before…

"I'm sorry…er…have we met before?" asked John, trying to clear the cobwebs from inside his head.


End file.
